Primal Horror
by the stargate time traveller
Summary: Set in "Genesis," what Worf was going through when he attacked Deanna, and then later Beverly.


Merry Christmas everyone.

I don't own Star Trek, but just this one-shot. Please tell me what you think.

* * *

Primal Horror.

Worf had no idea what was possessing him. Not only had he deserted his post, something that went against his Klingon nature, but what surprised him the most was the fact he genuinely could not bring himself to care. Another thing that surprised him the most was how….desperate he was to reach Deanna in her quarters.

All day, the beautiful empath had driven him crazy - not only because she had adjusted the environmental control settings on the bridge until it was far hotter, even for him. Klingons preferred warmer climates, but like other races, including humans, they had their limits. Deanna had lost it when he had reduced the temperature back to a more comfortable setting, much to the relief of the bridge crew he had seen sweating, and she announced she was leaving the bridge to have a bath.

A bath?

At this time of day?

When she had left the bridge, Worf had tried to remain focused on his duties like he normally did, and yet he couldn't; he was distracted with thoughts of Deanna. He'd had them a few times in the past, but he had never acted on them before. He had once told Guinan when she had asked him in that mellow voice years ago why he never sought out companionship before, he had told her Earth females were too fragile. Well, he was practically eating his own words. Deanna may have been small and relatively frail by Klingon standards, but she held a fire within that was intoxicating.

Worf just couldn't stand it, he just could not stand to be far from Deanna. He wanted to be near her, he had to be near her. As he ran towards her quarters, his heart pounding in his chest, he was surprised to feel himself….. feeling incredibly powerful! He had never felt this way before, not even with K'Ehleyr, but truthfully he didn't care what he was feeling. He just knew he had the need to rush to Deanna's quarters and mate with her.

The need to mate with her was overwhelming. He ignored the strange looks he was garnering from the other members of the crew, though he noted dimly they smelt odd, not like their normal smells. Klingons had incredibly powerful senses thanks to their predatory nature, and the scent of smell was one of the reasons why many Klingons in the Empire refused to bathe or wash for long periods; they knew if they washed they would lose a part of themselves. Worf had adapted to that long ago, and when he had become a member of the Enterprises' crew it hadn't taken him long to learn the scents of the thousand people on his ship.

Now those scents were different. Something was wrong, the rational part of him knew that the part that had been raised by humans after his own were murdered by the Romulans during that coward's attack on Khitomer when his father had tried to investigate Duras' own father, Jarod. But the rational part of Worfs' mind, the part of him which would have investigated what was going on with everyone else and himself, was now submerged. The more primal part of Worfs' mind was stronger, and it overpowered the rational side of Worf which was trying to stop himself going to Deanna's quarters in the first place.

When he finally arrived at the door, Worf didn't waste time. He opened the door with his security override and he entered, but he was taken aback by the sheer heat of the cabin. The moisture in the air from the bath itself mixed with the heat, making it feel to Worf as though he had just walked through a doorway into a miniature swamp.

He found Deanna in the bath. She hadn't bothered to slip out of her uniform, and she was surrounded by glasses of water. The moment he saw her, he hurried over to the bath and knelt down opposite her.

Deanna glared at him indignantly for breaking into her quarters, but he couldn't bring it within himself to care. "What are you doing here?!" she snapped.

Worf stared at her with pure lust. Now she was in front of him, even in this swamp, he didn't care about the social niceties. With a growl of pure lust, he said, "I had to be near you." Couldn't she tell that for them to be mated, they had to be near one another?

"Computer, increase temperature by five degrees," Deanna said, reaching for a glass of water (didn't she have enough as it was?!), and suddenly something within Worf snapped. He knocked the glass aside, making it smash on the floor, as he reached out and took hold of Deanna's wrist in his large paw.

"Get out of that water, now!" he growled at her, heaving her around.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Deanna shouted, but he didn't pay her any attention as he spun her around in the tub and leaned forward over her head, opening his mouth.

Deanna screamed in pain and tried to escape, to push him away while he bit her.

And then he stopped and pulled away, the taste of Deanna's blood in her mouth and he looked down at her in horror even as she mirrored his expression, looking at him wide-eyed while she held a hand to her cheek to where he'd bitten her.

"W-what have I done?" Worf whispered, looking horrified at the sight of the blood trickling down Deanna's cheek. "D-Deanna, I'm so sorry-!"

But Deanna pulled away from him, frightened. Worf was hurt but he understood her fears. What he couldn't grasp was what had made him act like this when he had never done something like this in his entire life. He had always held himself back, particularly when he had broken that boys neck when he had been younger and had played soccer.

But this was different. He had come to Deanna's quarters and had initiated a Klingon mating ritual with her, but he had gone about it the wrong way. Worse, she was hurt and terrified of him.

With that in mind and desiring to make something better of this mess, he reached out a shaking hand to his combadge. "Worf to Sickbay. I need a medical team to come to Counselor Troi's quarters immediately."

"It's on its way," the voice at the other end said.

Worf tapped his combadge again. "Worf to Security."

* * *

The rational side of Worf was facing one of his own security officers while he was seated on the bio-bed, but the rational part of his mind was once again leaving him, replaced with a more primal side. New thoughts and feelings were coming to the surface of his mind, simpler thoughts and feelings instead of rational ones.

He studied the man opposite him. The rational side of Worf knew the man well, he was one of the best on the security detail, and while Worf was a tough taskmaster at the best of times, he was more than aware of what humans could take and endure. That was what made many of his security staff exceptional. But that didn't stop Worf from visualising himself from killing this man while he was standing so close to him, but the frightening part was he didn't know why he was feeling this way. All he knew was it wasn't a good idea to be hemmed in like this.

Another strange thing was the taste in his mouth. It was something he had tasted before but never like this. It was stronger, more potent…. And the rational side of the Klingon officer knew it was not a good idea to open his mouth.

Worf was snapped out of his musings when the familiar pale-skinned redheaded Dr Crusher appeared in front of him. "Worf, have you had any unusual symptoms lately? Headaches, nausea, dizziness?" she reeled off a list of possible symptoms.

" _I do feel odd, doctor,"_ Worf tried to say, but something within him stopped him. It was almost as though he couldn't understand what the doctor was saying.

Crusher became puzzled when he couldn't speak. "Worf? Worf, do you hear me?"

" _I do doctor, believe me. But something is very wrong. I can feel it. You'd better get away from me…..,"_ Worf tried and failed to tell the doctor.

But Crusher remained puzzled by his lack of response, and he could see and smell for himself she was worried and a little frightened by that.

"I'm going to run a full bio-scan, I'd like you to lie down,' the doctor said, and she tried to push him back down on the bed. Worf stiffened and refused to be pushed down.

Crusher tried to put on a brave smile, but he could see she was worried. "Okay, we can do this sitting up," she said and she walked away from him, but she noticed something on the side of his neck.

"What is this?" she whispered in disbelief, using her fingers to gently prod whatever it was. Worf stiffened in surprise when her light fingers touched whatever was on the side of his neck.

Instantly Crushers' tricorder was open and running scans. "Worf, how long have you had this on your neck?" she asked urgently while her tricorder scanned what was on his neck, chirping as it did so. "Looks like it's full of a bioacidic compound, almost like a venom sack," she whispered in surprise.

A venom sack?

The remaining part of Worf that was rational reeled at the news, finally understanding what the taste in his mouth was. It was venom. But how? Klingons were not poisonous!

"Worf….open your mouth," Crusher said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

" _No, doctor-!"_

But it was too late. Worf opened his mouth and a spray of green liquid was spat into Doctor Crushers' face. When he had been a child studying Earth culture and animals, Worf had learnt of the Jungle Book novel by Rudyard Kipling, and because of his Klingon nature, he had developed a passing interest in animals on Earth. He had learnt of cobras which launched a spray of poison at their enemies. One drop in the eye of a victim would blind them permanently.

As the submerging part of Worf's rational mind watched Doctor Beverly Crusher, someone who he considered one of his friends, scream and writhe around while clapping her hands to her eyes, he screamed in horror as well. After that, everything was a blur. He could see himself rush out of sickbay and into the corridors of the ship…

Later, when the transformation finally reached him, he felt incredibly powerful and strong even as his luxurious Klingon mane fell to the floor, and his uniform began to rip and shred as it tried to support his new build while his skin became harder, the rational side of Worf closed its eyes…..

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